


Two's a Crowdsource

by princessgrouch



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, OCD, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 09:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10383816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessgrouch/pseuds/princessgrouch
Summary: Day and night, bold and brittle.  Arthur and Merlin are homeschoolers who meet online.  And for Merlin, that's just about one person too many to handle.





	1. Chapter 1

He logged on to the Camelot Homeschool Student Forum, keying in the pass code for his assigned ‘study buddy’. Stupid name, how he hated to call it that, it made him sound like a five year old learning to read. He glanced at the time; 7:30, Arthur P. should be in any second now.

\- Hi, is that Merlin E.?  
\- Yes, hi Arthur, he replied.  
\- So , straight to it, then? Arthur typed.  
\- Homework, yay, he responded.  
\- Okay, so crowdsourcing assignment. What do you want to do?

Merlin thought for a few moments, then plunged ahead.

\- I like the Zooniverse idea, have you done that ever? he asked.  
\- What’s that about? Arthur asked him.  
\- Basically you look through reams of data, along with hundreds or thousands of people from around the world, and mark anything unusual that you find.  
\- ‘k, like what?  
\- I was thinking of the one where you look at stars and search for weird galaxies and stuff. They have like billions of photos of deep space and all, and just need lots of people to look at them.  
\- Oh, yeah, sure. Could be fun.

Merlin didn’t think he sounded impressed, but as the other boy hadn’t put forth a suggestion, there wasn’t much else to be done.

Two weeks later, deep into spiral galaxies and pulsars, Merlin was preparing his final report on the experience. He knew Arthur had found the project tedious at best, but Merlin enjoyed making bookmarks of special finds, and hoped that one day something he had discovered would get his name put on it.

\- Hey, Merls, came in place of a greeting.  
\- Arthur, how’d it go? Did you finish?  
\- I guess, yeah, sort of. Sending it through now. Merlin saw his inbox light up, and tapped a few keys to forward his report to Arthur in turn.  
\- Let’s go out to celebrate...My friends and I are going to Pop’s Pizza on Grail Road, you should come.  
\- Naw, I don’t really go out, Merlin answered quickly.  
\- ? What?  
\- Sorry, I have social anxiety. It’s better I stay at home. That’s why I’m homeschooled in the first place.  
\- Don’t be ridiculous, came the reply.

Merlin stared at the screen, eyes wide, and not breathing. His hands were frozen, hovering above the keyboard. A tremor ran though him. With a gasp, he shut his laptop, and pushed it aside. Tears pricking at his eyes, he crawled onto his bed and pulled the flannel sheet over him.  
Great. Now Arthur would know he was a loser. He wouldn’t talk to him again. They’d give him yet ANOTHER study buddy, and it would begin all over again. He sniffled, and curled in on himself, shuddering.  
His mom called him for supper, but he didn’t go. A while later when she peeked in, he hadn’t moved. He knew she would leave him alone, knowing the signs of over-stress and panic. Prodding would only make it escalate. He’d gone without a meal before. Often.  
Lonely. He was always going to be alone. Arthur had been nice. While it lasted. Banter, jokes, teasing, almost like having a real friend. He had pretended they were. But it was gone again. He’d ruined everything because he couldn’t go out and eat a bloody pizza. Merlin cried himself to sleep, and woke up the next day with a headache as a result.

It was five days. Arthur tried to be patient, but he had taken to reasoning with his computer, cajoling it, as if that would get Merlin to talk to him again. He’d read the essay that Merlin sent him. It was brilliant, as far as he could tell. Not that he understood the astrophysicky babble, but it sounded brilliant. His was shite in comparison.

\- I’m sorry, he’d written immediately, but there had been zero response. He’d tried again.  
\- I just don’t really understand what you’re going through.  
\- But that’s ok. You’re ok, it doesn’t really matter, eh?  
\- I mean, we can still do stuff on here, right?  
\- C’mon, hey, talk to me anyway? I’m just a big prat, all right?

That evening, when he logged on to check once again, there was a message. Finally. He blew a breath of relief, he’d felt guilty for whatever it was he’d done wrong.

\- Yeah, hi. I didn’t know what to do. I just can’t handle some stuff.  
\- Oh, thank God! I thought I’d lost you! He waited a few minutes, but Merlin was obviously not online at the moment. Arthur thought briefly, then typed out another message.  
\- So, tomorrow night at the usual time then? More schoolwork. Novel study this week. My turn to pick, yeah? He thought a moment more, and added:  
\- I really missed you. There, that didn’t sound too bad, did it? He’d looked up some info on social anxiety, and had decided that he didn’t want to ‘give up’ on someone just because they didn’t measure up to a certain standard. Talking with Merlin had been fun, and they could at least do that even if they never met IRL.


	2. Chapter 2

-What’re we going to debate?

Merlin was kinda doubtful they could successfully debate a topic anyways, but maybe Arthur had some ideas.

-idk. Is it possible? We could message back and forth I suppose. Great, Arthur didn’t have a clue.

-Not very exciting, Merlin replied blowing out a breath and staring at his grey, cracked ceiling.

-What do you usually do, you know, when you have to do something you can’t? I mean...you know, Arthur asked clumsily.

-I used to go to a behavioral therapy group, but they just focused on making you normal. I still have the notes. Maybe something in there...

-Like ‘how to debate when you can’t’? What?

Merlin dug out the binder his mom insisted he keep handy just in case, and skimmed over the bullet points. Couldn’t hurt to tell Arthur, see what he thought.

-It says here “creatively working on problems that cause anxiety in the real world”. So, creative...We could try something different. Merlin drummed his fingers lightly on the keyboard, mouth screwed up as he drew a blank.

-We’re going to have to meet, I don’t see any other way. In person. That was all Arthur came up with.

-Yeah, I’m already not...I can’t, Merlin typed shakily. He jumped up, climbed over his bed, opened his door, closed it. Grabbed his hair, and gave his computer a worried pouty look.

-What about webcam? Just to look, suggested Arthur. Don’t talk, just a quick silent meet ‘n greet? Like, just a few seconds.

Merlin sat down with a thump at his desk and responded, –Just that? He glanced to the side, considering. No feeling of dread, how odd. Unexpected. –I guess I could do that. Now?

*****

Elsewhere in Camelot, Arthur dropped his shoulders that he didn’t realize had tensed up, relieved that they were taking that step forward after these few past weeks getting acquainted. He sent Merlin affirmation, and got his camera on. He quick grabbed a piece of paper as a sudden afterthought.

Merlin came into view. He was a skinny guy, black hair, sharp features. Really crazy cheek bones, and distracting ears. Arthur gulped, and resisted the sudden urge to comment or flirt. He hadn’t even mentioned to Merlin that he was gay, now was probably not the time. Arthur forgot to smile at the silent boy across town, but reached for a pen. In a fraction of a moment he held up his paper.

HI

Merlin’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung open for a sec. Then he scrambled for a scrap of paper (which he unfortunately ripped off his book report that he’d just finished last night). Seconds later:

HELLO. I’M MERLIN.

I’M ARTHUR.

He could see Merlin look down, frantically flicking his eyes back and forth as if he was trying to find something. The next words to say, Arthur realized. He flapped his paper to get Merlin’s attention. When he looked up, Arthur held up his paper again.

BYE

He switched his cam off immediately. There. Easy peasy. 

-We can do that whenever you feel comfortable, Arthur reassured him. -Just that much. No need to do more, eh? Okay?

-Hmph, yeah, I can do that. You caught me off guard, I wasn’t ready to write messages. Next time I’ll get it ready ahead of time.

Merlin rotated his shoulders, and slowed his breathing. This hadn’t been so bad, and Arthur was being really nice about it. They weren’t really friends, after all, so he didn’t feel like he was letting him down by being standoffish or anything.

-Hey! You think we can do our debate like that? Prepare our arguments, questions, all that. Then just hold up what we want to say at the right time? That’ll be cool. What did you call it before? Creatively working on problems?

-I think I could do that, yeah.

It sounded safe enough to Merlin, not at all scary. Possibly even brilliant. Thing is, when it came to writing out ideas, he was tops. On paper, he was eloquent. This could really work.

-So what’s our subject? After Arthur said that, Merlin slumped again. THAT was the hard part.

*****

The debate, just fyi, wound up being over the merits/demerits of zoos. The following is a brief synopsis of how it went:

Merlin took the stance against their continuation, against the inhumane captivity, capitalization and exploitation of animals.

Arthur countered with public awareness and sentiment.

Merlin shot back with zoos being an archaic custom like DVD rental shops and snail mail, outmoded by global networking and webcams profiling animals in their own habitats. He cited the increase in international travel allowing people to visit exotic locations and view creatures in the wild.

Arthur expounded on the recovery of endangered species, and the care for wounded, sick, or orphaned animals, and the continued care for animals already living in captivity.

Merlin called him a clot poll and a dollophead, they were still all capitalists.

Arthur called him an idiot, it cost a ton of money to care for the animals adequately. 

They both started laughing on camera, until Arthur was red in the face and Merlin fell off his chair. When he resurfaced, they nodded congenially at one another, then disconnected.

Merlin continued grinning all afternoon and evening, to the delight of his mother who wisely made no comment on the fact.

And Arthur’s father, when he reviewed the recorded debate for marking, merely stated that he was pleased Arthur was working on his writing skills.


	3. Chapter 3

Make and meet goals was another “important thing to do” on Merlin's list. So today Merlin and Arthur were going to hike the local woods and shoot cute, fluffy animals. With their cameras.

There was an old rusty gate up at the entrance to the Woods of Albion, that’s where they had agreed to meet. Since they already knew what each other looked like, there would be no need to talk at all. When Merlin arrived, Arthur was sitting atop the gate swinging his legs, a shiny red-and-gold backpack leaning against one of the gateposts. Merlin gave him a wide grin. Okay, Arthur thought, must be a good day for him, and gave a curt nod of the head.

Merlin swatted idly at some bugs buzzing around his head, as Arthur climbed down and snatched up his sack. But then as Arthur turned to him, Merlin was suddenly ducking and weaving, flailing frantically.

“Wasp?” Arthur inquired, flinching, and eyes darting around looking for a tell-tale yellow and black insect in the air.

“No,” gasped Merlin briefly, “Just...” and then he flung down an ancient and holey bag and began to rifle through it. He withdrew his hand and triumphantly waved a bottle of Forrest’s Finest bug spray. It went on his ankles, all over the blue socks revealed when Merlin tugged up his jeans. It went on his wrists including on the cuffs of the long-sleeved top he wore. It went on the back of his neck, and around the front of his collar. He sprayed his hands and smoothed the repellant over his face and ears. And behind his ears.

Arthur watched the careful process in silence, and gave a (hopefully) supporting nod of approval. Merlin did finally tuck the bottle back in his bag, and Arthur turned to hop the gate and head into the woods, but when he looked back, Merlin had dug something else out of his bag.

It was a white and blue striped cap. Knit. Merlin pulled it on, right down over the tips of his ears. Oh, okay. Arthur was fine with pausing to wait for Merlin to climb over, he was a patient guy.

Merlin took the cap off again. He inspected it, peering inside. He shook it out, and peered in again. Then he put it on again. Took it off. Turned it a third of the way around. Put it on again. Tucked his hair in around his ears. Took the hat off and shook his hair a bit, and pulled the hat back on, swiping the hair back smoothly as he tucked it in once more.

Arthur’s eyes had widened, and his lips were pursed as he watched. This looked like some sort of ritual. But at last Merlin seemed to have settled the matter, and bent once more to his bag. Good, no biggy, Arthur was still cool with this. Now they could head out.

Instead of picking up his bag, Merlin redirected his hands to untie his right runner. He poked at the sock underneath, pulled up the tongue as hard as he could, and painstakingly tied the laces again.

Arthur watched, incredulous, subconsciously covering his mouth with a hand as if to stop himself from commenting. Merlin undid the shoe again, and took it all the way off this time, plopping his bum right down on the dirt to do so. He shook out the shoe, looked inside, felt inside, looked again, put it on, pulled the tongue, tied it up, undid it, tied it up once more.

Arthur’s eyes were glazing over, when he realized Merlin had sprung to his feet and was nimbly vaulting over the fence. Holy crow, what was that?

Arthur was pretty sure his wtf face was on when Merlin looked at him, but Merlin just smiled happily and actually spoke words.

“Are you ready? Let’s go!”

*****

It was a trail near Merlin’s home, with which he was familiar. They had figured that would be most comfortable for him. Further up the path Merlin pointed down the left fork, apparently the way to an old mill. Arthur easily swerved to change directions, and nearly tripped over Merlin who had bent down suddenly.

Interesting bug, interesting plant, interesting rock? What? Oh.

Merlin was untying his shoe. Left shoe this time. Took it all the way off, did the search and feel routine, and the sock/tongue/tie routine. Then he did the right one. The whole shebang.

Arthur looked back. You could almost still see the gate they entered the woods by. Where Merlin had already done the shoe thing. Just...don’t...say anything, he told himself.

Merlin straightened up again, and Arthur released a breath, ready to hike the dickens out of this trail to make up for lost time.

No. Apparently time for the hat routine. Off, on, off, on, off, on. Merlin took two steps in the right direction, but before Arthur could react, the hat came off again. On, off, on.

*****

When they reached the old mill, Merlin stopped to do his bug spray again. Then the hat. Arthur was getting good at memorizing the routines, and counted off the hat manoeuvres expertly.

Down to business, nice day, sunshine, cool breeze. Arthur let himself just enjoy the outing, and was really quite glad Merlin came. Ten minutes in to searching stealthily around the mill for signs of wildlife, they decided to get out their cameras, mostly by gesturing with little click click noises and their fingers making mock-cameras at each other. As his hands unclasped his camera case, Arthur paused and looked up expectantly. Not disappointed.

Merlin was pulling the strap of his camera over his head and tucking it under his collar, and immediately taking it off again. He looked at the strap, lengthened it a little, adjusted his collar, and put it back on. He took it off, shortened it again, put it back on. And again.

When Merlin looked up, Arthur had an odd-ish smile on his face.

“What?” Merlin deigned to say. Arthur just shook his head, and looked back to his neglected camera.

*****

Some awesome shots of the mill, various trees with puffy cumulus clouds in the background, a ground squirrel or two later, they spread out their picnic lunches on what was probably an old broken grindstone. Merlin leaned into Arthur to look at the photos on his camera, which surprised Arthur no end. Personal space not a problem, eh? Arthur shoved at him with his shoulder, tentatively, and was pleased when Merlin merely shoved him right back.

They nibbled at their sandwiches, Arthur snatching up one of Merlin’s. Merlin gamely dove in for some of Arthur’s celery and carrot sticks, but like a switch had turned, he stopped to inspect each one, and picked imperceptible things from them.

“Why do you do that thing with your shoes? And your hat?” Arthur dared to ask.

“What thing,” Merlin sprayed bits of carrot as he spoke, and Arthur shoved him again.

“Ew! - That thing where you take them off and put them on over and over again. At every corner, every time we pause between doing one thing and the next.” Arthur bit his lower lip, hoping this wasn’t a bad thing to bring up.

“I do that?” Merlin asked, looking puzzled.

“It’s okay,” Arthur hastened to add. “It’s kinda soothing, actually. I’m getting used to it. I don’t mind really, I was just wondering about it, is all.”

Merlin merely shrugged, and went back to inspecting the chocolate chunk biscuit he had stolen from Arthur’s stuff. Carrots all done (or spat), he nibbled a bit off the corner of his biscuit, and appeared to be investigating the flavour and texture with caution.

Arthur twisted around to place the rest of the biscuits out of Merlin’s reach, with an exaggerated indignant squawk. But he miscalculated and elbowed Merlin’s arm. Merlin’s biscuit went flying. Down into the dirt.

Aghast, Arthur hastened to make amends. “That’s okay, we can just leave that one for the animals I guess,” he said, trying to hand Merlin another.

But Merlin swooped down off the stone table and snatched up the fallen biscuit. He blew hastily at the side of it, brushing it quickly with his fingertips, and shoved the whole thing in his mouth at once.

“NO!” he said. “Mine!” Merlin eyed the container Arthur was dumbly holding as he tried to reconcile the discrepancies in Merlin’s behaviour. “Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!” he repeated in the tones of a deranged sea gull.

Arthur laughed suddenly, and leapt from the stone and took off down the side of the mill with the biscuits, dodging broken bits of the walls, and plowing willy nilly through scratchy berry bushes. Merlin whooped after him, climbing over stones that Arthur had gone around, leaping nimbly over logs and brambles alike.

“Mine! Mine! Mine!” the raucous cry came again and again. Merlin was nothing if not repetitious.

“Okay, okay, I give,” Arthur gasped, half choked with laughing and trying to breathe. He put the biscuit tin down on a bit of the old wall, and backed away, making placating gestures with his hands.

Merlin leapt up on the wall, and crouched there with his knees sticking up at sharp angles, like a gargoyle perched ready to pounce. He snatched up the tin, and cradled it possessively, his body curved over it. He looked up through the hair falling over his eyes, menacing, maniacal.

Just as quickly, Merlin jumped down again, and held out the tin. “Want one?” he said smugly, transformed into human once again. Arthur shook his head as he took a biscuit.

“Idiot,” he said with feeling.

*****

The boys shook hands formally when they parted, without a word. Arthur got it, he really did. Merlin talked best when there were no expectations or protocols to adhere to. Merlin repeated actions without realizing it, much like one might scratch an itch. Germs and dirt were not equivalent. And Merlin..., well, there was just something about him.

*****

Merlin giggled all the way back to his house.

*****

The photos they snuck of one another were their favourites, btw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know someone who does these exact things. Right down to being unaware of it. And being lovable too.


End file.
